


the beast you've made of me

by settledthesun



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Werewolf!Danny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 18:38:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2592050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/settledthesun/pseuds/settledthesun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Your breath is coming out in short, pained bursts. Your chest is on fire. Your hands tremble.</p><p>Not like this, you think. God, not like this.</p><p>‘Hollis and her friends have crossed me for the last time. How poetic it will be for the brave knight to become the big bad wolf.’'</p><p>or</p><p>The Dean uses Danny's secret to her advantage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the beast you've made of me

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by an old english myth that a werewolf can be turned back by someone who truly loves and trusts them speaking their name.
> 
> title taken from florence + the machine's 'howl'

You’re on your way to Laura’s dorm when it happens.

You know you’re supposed to be staying away, that you promised yourself you wouldn’t get involved again, but LaFontaine is missing, and even though the two of you never particularly got on, you’ll be damned if you’re not gonna help get them back.

So you told your Summer Society sisters where you were headed before grabbing your jacket and rushing out the door, converse hitting the sidewalk rhythmically in your hurried pace.

Maybe it was the adrenaline rushing through your body that prevented you from being able to stop it; from hearing anyone coming. Because one minute you’re cutting through the park attached to campus (not something you would normally do) and the next you hear the rustling of a branch behind you much too late. Whatever it is hits you hard in the back of the head, and the last thing you register as your knees hit the cracked dirt, before you black out, is that Laura won’t even realise you’re gone.

 

There’s a space of about two seconds between opening your eyes and being hit with the overwhelming urge to vomit. You fight off the nausea, wearily lifting your hand to the back of your head, pulling it back to find it caked with dried blood. Looking around, you see you’re in some kind of supply closet. There’s no window, and you don’t even have to try to the door to know it’s locked. You force yourself up, leaning against the wall as you take shallow breaths, hyper aware of how weak you feel. You’re about to start putting what little energy you have into finding a way out of here because the lack of space is starting to get to you (you’re assaulted with the memory of one of your brothers locking you in a wardrobe when you were kids and you’d been found mid-panic attack an hour later by your father) when the door is suddenly thrown open.

Will saunters in as if this is nothing out of the usual for him, smirking at the way you’re fighting to stay standing.

You want to curse at him, to hurt him the way he nearly hurt Laura, but in a flash he’s at your side, forcing you down to your knees roughly by your shoulder.  
‘Bastard,’ you manage to spit out, pretending it wasn’t as pathetic as it sounded. He just continues to give you that predatory smile.

‘She’s awake, mother,’ he calls out, sounding almost bored.

‘Oh, I can see that,’ comes a new voice.

You turn your head (once again you force yourself to ignore the nausea) and come face to face with the Dean.

You’d spoken to her several times over the years; your role as Vice President of the Summer Society called for it. You’d never been overly fond of her, something about her always seemed off to you. But now, looking up at her as she cocks her head to peer at you, you know that you were in danger every time you crossed paths with her.

‘Danny Lawrence,’ she says, taking a step forward. ‘You’ve been causing me quite a bit of trouble.’

You say nothing, meeting her gaze and trying not to let it show how fucking terrified you are.

‘That Hollis girl, though a nuisance, wouldn’t have been half the threat she is now if she hadn’t had yourself and your sisters at her beck and call. Honestly, I’ll never quite get used to humans and their insistence to meddle. Then again, she is rather fond of you. Or, rather, was. And you yourself have quite the puppy crush, don’t you?’

Your heart picks up at this, fighting back the fear that she meant to imply what she just did.

‘And so, it would seem, does my daughter. But I’ll deal with that soon enough. We’re here to talk about you,’ her smile is almost kind, and that scares you more than anything.  
She kneels down in front of you and reaches out to tuck a loose strand behind your ear. You want to shrink away at the contact, but Will’s hand is still holding you down and his grip is getting tighter.

‘As the others have found out, I am in need of sacrifices. Girls, specifically. Virgins. You don’t quite fit the bill for that last part unfortunately,’ you shudder. ‘But I have other uses for you.’

You look to the open door. You could do it, couldn’t you? You could make it the few feet to the door and at least have enough time to shout for help. You remember how quickly Carmilla had torn your stake from your hand and you realise you have no chance. Even though you both knew that you could have-, but it doesn’t matter, because you’re so weak now you don’t even think you could stand. Your shoulder is starting to tingle slightly, like a series of pinpricks all over, and you figure Will really must be grabbing you hard.

‘I wouldn’t try it if I were you,’ the Dean says, somehow knowing exactly what you were thinking. ‘Not because we’d stop you, no, we wouldn’t have to. You wouldn’t even be able to make it out of this room if we sat back and watched. Not with all that Wolfsbane pumping through your veins.’

You look up sharply, your breath catching in your throat. Had she really just-

‘That’s right. After Will brought you here he injected it right into your system. That was about twenty minutes ago, so I don’t think we’ll have long to wait.’

She catches the way your lower lips trembles.

‘Oh, come now. You didn’t really think I didn’t know about you, about your sisters? I know everything about this campus, and you certainly aren’t the first of your kind that I’ve come across.’

‘Why’, you manage to choke out. The tingling has travelled to your chest.

‘I’ve let Hollis and her little friends know about your disappearance, and offered some clues as to where you can be found. I made them subtle enough to let them believe they’ve figured it out on their own; that they’ll be able to save the day. What they find, however,’ she looks you up and down, ‘won’t be quite what they’re expecting. At least Carmilla will understand.’

Your breath is coming out in short, pained bursts. Your chest is on fire. Your hands tremble.

Not like this, you think. God, not like this.

‘Hollis and her friends have crossed me for the last time. How poetic it will be for the brave knight to become the big bad wolf.’

Your bones crack and you know it’s begun. You watch helplessly as your fingers turn to claws and your vision turns red. You feel skin turning to fur; clothes tearing at the seams. A few more seconds of agony, and then it’s over.

‘Now, girl,’ you hear. ‘Fetch.’

You throw your head back and howl.

 

(You first turned when you were sixteen years old.

Up until this point, everything about your life had been perfectly average. You’d got good grades at school, had your own group of friends you hung out with on the weekends, and you had reached the age where you delighted in making a pretty girl smile.

Everything was fine. Until one day you woke up and stretched your long limbs only to brush against- were those leaves?

You’d opened your eyes, squinting against the morning sun and sitting up in panic. Fully awake and alert, you had been able to take in your surroundings, only to realise you were in the middle of a forest, and very, very naked.

So it had turned out that one particular ancestor of yours was once cursed by a witch and since then certain members of the Lawrence family turned when they came of age, sixteen, in this case.

Your mom and dad had sat down and explained everything to you, in a way that seemed kinda cavalier considering the situation, and promised you’d learn to control it.  
It being the wolf.

Because you were a fucking werewolf.

After a lot of training, and a lot more patience, you had learned to control it. You had graduated high school without much trouble, and left for Silas University after learning they had a society that covered as an all-girls outdoor athletics club, whilst secretly acting as a place for young female werewolves to form a pack.

Even when you met Laura two years later, everything remained okay. Sure, when you were with her you could feel your wolf awaken slightly, as if just Laura’s presence excited it, but you never had to struggle to keep control.

Until Carmilla.

She let it slip pretty early on that she knew what you really were. She would snarl when Laura was out of earshot, making comments about buying you a leash or asking if you were planning on peeing on Laura’s bed anytime soon. 

It was infuriating, but just like you wouldn’t let anyone know she was a vampire, she wouldn’t tell anyone you were a wolf. It was a kind of unspoken supernatural code. A really fucked up one, but a code nonetheless. Some hide it better than others, however, explaining why you’d never known about the Dean.

So you both knew you could have ripped her to shreds right there in Laura’s bedroom, but you never would have done it. You couldn’t expose yourself to the others, not like that, and you definitely couldn’t shift in front of them. She might have control over her wolf, but it still wasn’t safe.

You shifted every full moon, just like every other wolf, but you were able to make sure nothing bad happened. You would go into the forest every full moon, waiting for the shift to come. When it did, you would spend the night running through the darkened trees, delighting in the energy coursing through your body that nothing could match; not track, not javelin, nothing. Then, in the morning, you would awaken, tired and naked, and head to the tree you always stored extra clothes by, before making your way back to the Summer Society house, nodding to the other girls that had been up all night in similar activities. 

You'd have a shower, get changed, and head to your class.

Everything was fine.)

 

Everything is loud. Everything is so loud.

The blood rushing through your ears, turned up in search of prey, the heavy thud of your paws on the forest floor, the rustling of leaves as branches sway in the night breeze.  
You need to bite, to rip, to tear. You need to feel cracking between your teeth; to snarl over the carcass of the fallen.

You freeze as you catch a scent in the air. It’s fresh.

You race in the direction of its source, and soon enough arrive at a clearing. There are people there. They haven’t seen you yet. You get ready to pounce.

Right before you do, one of them turns, as if sensing you. They have dark hair and dark eyes. They push the others behind them, and speaks. You hear the language, but you don’t comprehend.

(‘Get back, don’t go near her.’

‘Is that a wolf?! What do you mean ‘her’, how do you know?’

‘Don’t. She won’t recognise you. You have to go.’

‘’Recognise’? I don’t know about you, but I haven’t made a habit of hanging out with wolves in the past.’

‘The fur. It’s so red. God, is that-. Carmilla is that Danny?’

‘Laura, I-. Laura, don’t!’)

One of them steps closer to you. They’re smaller. Even easier prey.

You lower your head, bare your teeth. The hunt is over.

‘Danny?’

You freeze.

‘Danny? Please, I know you can hear me.’

You shake your head back and forth, you mind is filled with noise. Noise, noise, noise. It echoes: Danny, Danny, Danny.

‘I’m sorry, Danny. I’m so sorry.’ They come closer, coming to a crouch, three feet, two feet, from where you are. You could snap their neck in a second.

‘Come back to me, Danny. Please come back.’

There’s no pain this time.

One moment there’s fur, and then there’s naked skin.

One moment there’s nothing, and then there’s her; there’s Laura.

‘Laura?’ You croak.

‘Danny. Oh, Danny.’

She bundles you into her arms, her hand running through your long red hair (hair, not fur) and you’re pretty sure you’re crying. She rocks you back and forth and holds on tightly.  
There’s no pain.

You’re just coming home.

 

Hours later, when Laura has ushered you into her bed and covered you with blankets, when LaFontaine (you suppose there was no need for you to even leave your room in the first place) and Perry have left, and Carmilla follows after them, responding with an ‘it’s okay, I understand’ to Laura’s whispered, ‘I’m sorry’, you shut your eyes and grip the bed sheets, trying to remind yourself that you’re okay.

‘You’re okay,’ Laura whispers. She’s joined you, gently wrapping her arm around your waist, pressing her face to the crook of your neck. ‘You’re okay.’

Your breathing evens out.

‘You’re okay.’

Your fingers loosen their hold.

‘You’re with me. You’re okay.’

Your turn to look at her. She leans forward and presses the gentlest of kisses to your mouth, before kissing your cheek, your nose, your ear, your neck, and returns to your lips.  
‘Please don’t let go,’ you say.

‘Never,’ she promises.

‘We have to-‘.  
‘Not now, tomorrow. Just rest, Danny. We’ll face it all tomorrow. Together.’

‘Together?’ you ask.

She laces her fingers through yours; presses her lips to your ear. You close your eyes at the sensation, chest filling with warmth, a warmth so different from the burning that had consumed you only hours earlier.

‘Together.’

You feel yourself drifting into much needed sleep when Laura tightens her hold and says:

‘Oh, Danny. My brave, brave wolf.’

You fall asleep smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> this was kind of a hot mess but i just miss danny a whole lot and this idea would not leave me alone


End file.
